


BITE

by ninastirith



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M, inspired by bite by troye sivan, some more stream of consciousness drabbling from your fave intense guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninastirith/pseuds/ninastirith





	BITE

I don’t care. Another one, another one - god knows I don’t care anymore.

We might as well be one. Four arms and legs, four eyes, two heaving chests, as if that matters. As if that matters when no one could tell us apart. Does it matter now? You shut me up, I never get to ask.

I never get to ask and I never ask for anything. Lips or fingertips - can’t tell which is which anymore until you bite down. Until you do.

And then you do. Arms around me tighter, more right than ever. I whisper your name, I eat your hair up in my fumbling hands and I kiss your burning lips, your blooming cheeks, I thank you and you give myself back to me because nothing is more real than this.

You shouldn’t have given in when we had that discussion. Now the pale blue curtains waver and remind me of hospital gowns and I am too proud to admit it. But all the same, now they waver and the light dances across you and I am reminded.

I remember that wherever you go, I will follow. It is time to go there now.

Lips or fingertips or tongues or promises, I can’t tell which is which because they mean the same thing around a bruise, a mole, a question. You dance all over me and make me raw. We go together like this - I take us places but you lead the real way and grace me with little gifts, stings, flickers. No words left for what we do. Warmth and pain and heaven, ease and light.

I don’t care about what I can see through someone else’s eyes. I don’t care about bunk beds and first days and the divorce, I don’t care about shared clothes and birthdays and I don’t care, I don’t care what they say. Legs around your waist and we have a castle, kiss on the mouth to open the gates. This will never be their kingdom.

Sit with me. Flick through memories like cable channels in the high 100s, laugh when I say I told you so. I told you so, we’d never see them again. I told you so, we’d make it and they wouldn’t. You taste like that victory.

We made it. We make our own rules and not, everything made of glass. Blur it, treat it, bruise it and give me love heavily, drunkedly. Beads of steam to keep us safe, low voices prepare a bed for every word spoken against my skin.

The only time I run out of words is when you soak them up. I won’t ask for them back. We’re so close I can feel you doubt me, a cold sweat I can’t kick. The aftershock, the afterglow, the after, the before and during - aren’t they all the same? Never ending cycle of keeping an eye on the closed door. Keeping an eye on it even when they both flutter close, mouth falling open, sound kept inside like it’s all I’ve ever done. Closer, closer, closed.

What will I do without you? What will I do without your warmth, your voice in my head. Hand in mine and it feels like myself and not. One and two, one and the same and yet you’re endlessly better. You’re me, and yet I miss you.

You say yes every time. You mean it every time. Teeth gracing my thighs - wishing me well. We are nowhere to be seen. Let’s never come back, leave the lights on behind us. Windows open, all those faces staring back and they’ll wait forever. The road is a book, is a bed, crossroads are our sheets because all that will never be ours but pretending, trying, that’s what we do. Right here.

Right here, you call me yours. I get to give you more than glances.

It’s time for me to go soon. You know that, right? I’m leaving you. I’m leaving the coffee pot and these sheets and I’m leaving you that recipe so that when I’m gone, you can make those cookies you love, the ones I make every Christmas. I’m leaving the sun and the light and I’m leaving the questions - I’m leaving although it’s the last thing I want to do. I could never, but I will. All my colours bleed out, you’re asleep and your every breath takes me in. I’ll leave every inch you want of me here, but I have to go.

Another one, one last time. Move with me, hold me close and pretend we’ll meet like this again. Hair and sweat and foreheads to collarbones and you ask me to stay with everything you won’t say and my fingers, numb, sparking, tilt your chin up. As beautiful as terrifying, desert land of heaven, oasis of venom and all you want is to be good for me. You taste like “please” to all my “sorry”s.


End file.
